


Of Christmas and Vulcans

by FandomTrash24601



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: An itty bit of swearing, But not in space, Chess, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Spirit, First Christmas, Fluff, M/M, No seriously there's so much blushing it's ridiculous, Romantic Fluff, Seriously there's so much fluff, Snowed In, Space Husbands, There's so much blushing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, adorable goofballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9020461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrash24601/pseuds/FandomTrash24601
Summary: Spock's hovercar breaks down during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve and Jim happens to be in the nearest cabin. Awkward and adorable shenanagins ensue.





	

Jim Kirk sat on his couch, watching _The Year Without A Santa Claus_. He was underneath a fluffy blanket, a mug of cocoa in his hands. The television hung over his fireplace, which was home to a warm orange fire. Through the half-drawn curtains to his left, he could see fat snowflakes dancing through the dark air.

He had rented a small cabin in the Canadian wilderness for Christmas, since his best friend Bones had been granted custody of his daughter for this holiday season. It was peaceful, but it was a little bit lonely. He'd look forward to returning to San Francisco and the apartment he shared with the grouchy doctor.

"Anybody can be Santa..." he found himself singing quietly as the song played on the TV. Wind howled outside, audible even over the movie. Glancing out at what was soon becoming a blizzard, he spared a moment to pity anybody who was stuck outside before turning back to the movie.

It wasn't even five minutes later when someone knocked on his door. A little bit alarmed at the thought of someone being outside on such a cold and snowy night, Jim paused the movie and leapt to his feet, nearly spilling his cocoa.

"Coming!" He hollered, trying to disentangle his feet from the blanket as he set down his cocoa. Once he managed to toss the blanket on to the couch, he hurried towards the door to open it.

A wave of frigid air swept over him, making him shudder as the wind cut through his clothes. He was temporarily blinded by the snow and lack of light, and when his eyes adjusted he found himself staring into the face of a handsome but frozen-looking man.

"Hi," he said, thankful for the flush of cold to disguise the enamored blush that rose on his cheeks. The man had a hat pulled down low over his face, and a scarf pulled up to cover his nose, but his eyes were a gorgeous dark brown and there were snowflakes caught on his eyelashes.

"Hello," the man said, and goddamn, he had a nice voice. Jim's epic schoolgirl crush was building by the second.

"Come on in," Jim managed to say, stepping to the side. "It's freezing out there, and you look like you could use some warmth." The man stepped inside, and James quickly shut the door behind him. "Why don't you take off some of your snow gear and I'll get you something warm to drink. Is cocoa okay?"

"Perhaps eggnog, if you have that? I am not particularly fond of cocoa." The man had made no move to undress besides pulling down his scarf, revealing olive flushed cheeks and a very kissable looking mouth. _Okay_ , Jim, thought. _So he's not human, but that doesn't really matter._

"Yeah, I've got eggnog. Do you want cinnamon in it?"

"Yes, please." He was polite, too. Jim was sensing the beginnings of a serious, honest-to-god, remember-them-for-months-afterwards crush. This couldn't end well.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go get that for you." Leaving the man in the hallway to take off his things, Jim headed for the kitchen. While he warmed up eggnog for the handsome visitor, he looked down at his red and green fluffy socks, wiggling his toes. Footsteps alerted him to the man's entry into the kitchen, and Jim looked up to see the man standing in the doorway.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest. The man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, posture perfect. His pointed ears and slanted eyebrows betrayed his heritage, as if the color of his flush hadn't been a big but ultimately missable clue. He was dressed in a simple green sweater and dark jeans that hugged him in all the right places, thick gray socks protecting his feet. Upon realizing how attractive the man was, it occurred to Jim that he hadn't introduced himself.

"I'm Jim," he blurted. "Jim Kirk. Who are you?" The Vulcan blinked at Jim, and he got the oddest feeling that he was being scrutinized.

"I am Spock," the man said. "Thank you for assisting me." Jim smiled as he dropped a stick of cinnamon into the eggnog, stirring a couple times before holding it out to Spock.

"No problem," Jim said. "You seemed like you needed help. Do you need help?"

"I do," Spock confessed, reaching out to take the mug. As he grasped the mug to take it, his fingers brushed Jim's. An electric shock seemed to run from Spock's fingers to Jim's, coursing through his arm and upper torso, making him feel warm and safe. He fumbled and nearly dropped the mug, but if the feeling had been anything other than a figment of Jim's imagination, Spock didn't show it.

"Sorry," he said, flushing. "Erm, what did you need help with? What's a Vulcan doing outside on a night like this?"

"My hovercar broke down," Spock said. "I am still rather far from my destination, and your cabin was visible from the hovercar."

"I'm actually a mechanic," Jim said. "But I won't be able to do anything to fix it until this storm stops. Why don't you call whoever you're going to be visiting and tell them what happened so they don't get worried when you don't show up. Were you going to celebrate Christmas with someone? I didn't think Vulcans found holidays logical."

 _Holy shit, Kirk, you're dumb_ , he told himself. _Just shut up and stop embarrassing yourself in front of the hot Vulcan._

"Vulcans do not find holidays logical, but I was indeed on my way to spend Christmas with my human mother and her relatives. She promised that she would educate me on Christmas and convince me that it is not an entirely illogical holiday." Jim tried not to let his surprise show at the fact that Spock's mother was human, but probably failed if Spock's raised eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Well," he said, shifting a bit awkwardly. "Why don't you call her, and then stay here for Christmas? Nobody will be able to go anywhere for a couple of days, and maybe I can try and convince you that Christmas isn't illogical."

"Very well. Do you have a PADD that I could borrow?"

"I do, let me just..." Jim looked around before realizing that he'd left his PADD in the living room, somewhere in the pile of blanket on the couch. He wandered over to the living room area and bent over the back of the couch, searching for it.

Finally freeing it, he spun around to find himself staring directly into Spock's eyes, which couldn't have been more than three inches away from his own. When Spock breathed out, Jim could feel it against his own mouth, and he tried not to look like some starstruck teenager.

"Oh," Jim said quietly, and Spock quickly stepped back.

"I apologize for infringing upon any personal boundaries," he said.

"No, it's fine." Jim said, probably quicker than he should have. "I, uh, I got you the PADD." He held out the PADD, waiting for Spock to take it. Some part of him hoped their fingers would brush again so that he could feel whatever had previously passed between them, but Spock was careful not to let their fingers brush.

"Thank you," Spock said, and Jim nodded.

"No problem. I'll, uh, I'll be in the kitchen." There was nothing of interest to Jim in the kitchen, but he felt that he'd be infringing if he stayed in the living room. He loitered, wandering around the small island and humming jingle bells under his breath. Spock's voice still filtered in from the living room, along with the staticky, unintelligible voice of who Jim presumed was his mother.

"No, mother, I will not be able to join you for Christmas."

Static.

"I am in adequate health, besides being cold. My hovercar broke down due to the snow, and the man in the nearest cabin was kind enough to allow me to stay here until the roads are able to be used. He has even offered to educate me on the ways of Christmas."

Static.

"He is in the kitchen, if you would wish to speak with him." Jim's stomach fluttered with nerves at the thought of speaking to Spock's mother. God, he really needed to get his nerves and his crush under control, lest he make a fool of himself in front of Spock or his mother.

"Jim?" Spock asked from the doorway, and Jim noticed that he really like the sound of his name coming from Spock's mouth.

"Hmm?" He should probably pretend that he hadn't heard all of that.

"My mother wishes to speak with you." His speech was odd, slow, and Jim noticed that the tips of his ears were tinted slightly green. Spock was embarrassed.

"Sure thing," Jim said, wandering over to Spock and taking the PADD. Once more, Spock made sure that there was no physical contact.

"Hello, Mrs..." He trailed off, finding that he didn't know Spock's last name. The woman laughed, a warm sound.

"Call me Amanda," she said. She was really rather pretty, with brown hair and eyes and an open face. How she lived among Vulcans, Jim didn't know.

"Hello, Amanda," he corrected himself. He was acutely aware of Spock's eyes on him as the man sipped at his eggnog.

"Hello. You are...?"

"Jim. Jim Kirk."

"Ah, hello Jim." Spock tells me that you're letting him stay with you for Christmas?"

"I am." Jim got the feeling that he was being judged, but in a far less severe way than he had sensed from Spock earlier. "After all, it would be awfully cruel to throw someone back out in the cold and snow with no way to go anywhere."

"Fair enough." Amanda's eyes twinkled when she was amused, he noticed. Or maybe she just had that kind of eyes, the kind that were always twinkling with something. "Do you think you're up to the task of educating him on the Christmas spirit?"

"I'd like to think so."

"He's rather stubborn."

"You should see my roommate. He's not with me, but he's pretty stubborn."

"Well, I should probably get back to my nieces and nephews before they kill each other-" A crash sounded in the background, and Amanda glanced back over her shoulder with a bit of a worried expression. "So I'm going to have to say goodbye for now. Could you hand me back to my son, now, please?"

"Of course," Jim said, holding the PADD out to Spock. "Goodbye, Amanda."

"Goodbye, Jim!" Amanda called.

"You should attend to Amy and Richard before they cause any more trouble," Spock said as another crash filtered out from the PADD. His voice was softer when he spoke to his mother, less monotone. It was nice.

"Alright, I get the hint," Amanda said, feigning hurt. "Goodbye, Spock. I love you."

"Goodbye, mother." He stopped the call midway through a third crash, and then handed the PADD back to Jim.

"Thank you for allowing me to borrow your PADD." Jim smiled at him, and reached out to take it back.

"No problem," he said. "Anything to help." Spock must not have been paying attention, because this time Jim's hand came into nearly full contact with Spock's as he grabbed the PADD. The feeling was stronger this time, extending through nearly all of his upper body with a faint buzz. Spock jerked his hand back as quickly as possible, like he'd been burned, and it was then that Jim knew that it wasn't just inside his head.

* * *

Spock's concentration had lapsed as he'd handed back the PADD, caught up in Jim's aesthetic appeal. He was really quite handsome, with sandy blonde hair and brilliantly blue eyes, and awfully distracting pink lips. He hadn't even thought to move his hand so their fingers could not brush again, and so it was startling when the tingle ran up into his torso.

_T'hy'la._

This he knew, had discovered earlier, but it was still shocking as his body recognized his other half. Jim no doubt knew of some connection between them from their earlier contact, but had not said anything. For the briefest of moments, Jim's surface thoughts washed over Spock like water, passing and always moving, fast and loud.

_What the fuck is that feeling? Oh shit don't drop the PADD. Can he feel it too? Should I ask him about this?_

Spock jerked his hand back, ashamed at even his minor invasion.

"I apologize," he said. "I did not mean to invade your privacy." Jim just blinked at him, confused.

"You touched my hand," he said. "That's not an invasion of privacy. Is it an invasion of privacy on Vulcan?" Spock was relived that Jim knew so little about Vulcans, and that he had asked the question the way he had. It allowed him to avoid telling the truth about what he meant.

"Indeed."

"Oh. Well, it's not any sort of invasion here, so there's no need to apologize." Jim glanced towards the living room, over Spock's shoulder.

"So, since your mom has given me permission, why don't we get to educating you on Christmas?" Spock turned to look at the television, and found a figure of a woman who might be Mrs. Claus wearing what was traditionally considered Santa's outfit.

"A... logical course of action." Jim grinned and walked towards the living room, beckoning Spock after him.

"One thing to know about Christmas," he said. "Is that there are hundreds of movies about elves, Santa, the Christmas spirit, Rudolph, snowmen, and more. This one just so happens to be one of my favorites. It's about the Christmas spirit, mostly. The whole idea behind it is that- Well, we'll watch it, and you can see for yourself." Jim sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to himself. Spock sat down tentatively, and Jim handed him a blanket as he went to restart the movie.

"Are you not in need of this?" Spock asked, and Jim grinned, wiggling his feet.

"Nope, I'm good. I've got fuzzy socks; and besides, you look like you're still cold." He was, and silently wrapped the blanket around himself, mug of eggnog still clasped in his hands.

"I have minimal knowledge of Christmas, although I have done some research on my own."

"Okay," Jim said. "Tell me if you're confused about something, and I'll explain it to you." The movie began with Mrs. Claus once again, singing to the camera, and Spock pretended to ignore how Jim pleasantly hummed along.

"This film is extremely dilapidated," Spock mused. Jim laughed quietly as Mrs. Claus continued to sing.

"Well, it was made way back in 1974, so of course it's going to have terrible quality, but it's the message that counts. Besides, the terrible graphics give it character."

"Are any more of the films that you will show me created in this style?"

"Yeah, _Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer_ was made in a similar way, but its from 1964." Spock returned his attention to the movie, but he had to admit that the quirky animation was, as his mother would say, 'growing on him' rather quickly.

By the end of the movie, Spock's eggnog was gone and he was actually enjoying himself, although he'd never say it out loud. As the credits rolled, Jim turned to Spock with a grin.

"I love that movie," he said. "It's one of my favorites. Did you enjoy it?"

"I did not dislike it."

"Alright, so, I'm going to educate you a bit more between movies. Anything you find illogical about Christmas that you want me to answer for?"

"The Christmas tree," Spock said. "It is one of the most illogical things about the holiday, in my opinion."

"Ah, the Christmas tree," Jim said. "I'm pretty sure it used to hold religious meaning, but people stopped celebrating Christmas religiously a while back. People used to go out with their families and cut down real trees, but that died out too.

"In my opinion, it's meant to bring families together. Decorating trees is a big event that includes the whole family. Ornaments normally have sentimental meaning, and remembering all of the memories that come along with ornaments is a great way to get families to bond. I guess the tree is a symbol of unity and family."

"A fake tree and physical memories should not be necessary for family bonding." Jim smiled sadly at him.

"It shouldn't be, and isn't usually, but sometimes it's really damn necessary. It reminds us that we're family, and that it's important to stick together." Spock didn't press on that matter, sensing that he'd hit a bit of a sensitive topic.

"I also find Christmas music to be illogical. What is the purpose of singing about the holiday, and what is there to be gained by so many versions of the same songs?" Jim laughed at that, a sound that Spock could only describe as warm. If his laugh had been anything else, Spock probably would've been offended, but it was too jolly to cause any offense.

"Well, everyone has different music tastes, and one person might sing the song in a different style than someone else. As for why people sing about it, it's because sometimes we need to be reminded to get in the Christmas spirit, and music is a good way to remind us."

"The Christmas spirit?"

"Yeah, you know, being nice to others, being generous, remembering to tell your loved ones that you love and appreciate them."

"This is uncommon on Earth?"

"Oh, highly. Humans can be pretty nasty and rude, and we can often take our loved ones for granted until they're gone."

"Fascinating," was the only response Spock could think of.

"Fascinating indeed. Any more questions before we start the next movie?"

"I believe I have asked sufficient questions for now."

"Alright then, let's start _Rudolph."_ The movie started with antique video footage of a snow covered street, with howling wind and intense orchestral music. This was far different from the other film they had watched, and Spock settled back to watch it.

* * *

Jim adored _Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer,_ he really did, but it was hard to pay attention to the movie when Spock was sitting right next to him. He looked almost like a small boy, curious and eager to learn about something new. Maybe it was a Vulcan thing, curiosity. The dimmed lights in the living room cast odd shadows that excellently defined Spock's ear, alien and attractive.

He realized that Spock and Rudolph were similar, if only because they were both not-quites. Rudolph was a not-quite-reindeer, and Spock was a not-quite-Vulcan. Who knows, maybe Spock had been bullied as a kid, too, but Vulcans probably considered bullying illogical.

He turned back to the television as the ragtag gang reached the Island of Misfit Toys, and contemplated that thought for a bit longer.

When the movie ended, Jim turned to Spock to see his reaction.

"It was enjoyable. I can see how idea of overcoming prejudice and celebrating differences could have been quite motivating to those who had yet to be introduced to IDIC." That seemed like some damn high praise coming from a Vulcan, and Jim beamed at him.

"Awesome. It's another one of my favorites. Any questions? The message behind the movie? Illogical Christmas-related traditions?"

"I believe the message behind the film was quite clear. In relation to illogical holiday traditions, I am confused as to how stockings are important."

"Well..." He was trying to do this on the fly, which was probably a poor idea. What _was_ the importance of stockings? "They remind us to be thankful of the little things. Kids are excited to open their presents and after they're done, when they remember their stockings, they're as excited as they were when they saw all of the bigger presents under the tree. It teaches kids that size doesn't necessarily determine value." He stopped there, reasonably satisfied with his argument.

"I see your logic, but then why not just leave all the smaller presents under the tree with the larger ones?" Ah, damm. Okay, he could figure out a solution to this. Someone's Christmas spirit was in his hands.

"Well because each of the small presents in the stocking aren't worth much on their own, but when you but them all together, they become much more valuable. I guess that teaches us that you need a group of people to support you, and that you can't stand alone forever."

It occurred to Jim that he might have just been spewing off emotional importance to a Vulcan, in which case this would never work, but Spock seemed to be considering his arguments. The fire crackled and popped in the silence between them, and it cast handsome shadows on Spock's face, turned towards Jim. He really was very attractive.

"I believe I understand," Spock said. "But I am still confused by garments known as 'ugly sweaters.'" Jim laughed, and he could've sworn Spock's eyes softened, but maybe that was just firelight and shadows playing tricks on his mind.

"Ah, ugly sweaters," he said. "To be entirely honest, I'm not very sure what they bring. Maybe holiday cheer? Ugly sweaters always seem to make people smile."

"Why? They are merely articles of clothing."

"But they're ugly, Christmas themed articles of clothing." Spock gave Jim a dubious look and he shrugged. "I'm trying, man, give me a break. I did tell you I wasn't sure about their holiday value." They were both silent for a moment, and the fire cracked and popped as they sat side by side on what was really more of a loveseat than a couch.

"I do not have any more questions as of now, if you would like to start the next movie." Jim glanced over at Spock and smiled at him.

"I've got one more short one that we can watch before we sleep. It's getting late, after all." A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was nearing 11, and Jim could feel his eyes beginning to grow heavier.

"Very well." James switched on _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ , smiling softly as the light music began to play. As the show continued, his eyes grew heavier and heavier, and by the end of the movie he was having trouble staying awake. He gave a huge yawn as the movie ended, and entertained the thought of pulling the classic arm-over-the-shoulder move for all of half a second before he realized that Spock probably wouldn't take too kindly to his advances.

"So, any more questions?" Jim asked after he had finished yawning and then subsequently blinked the spots out of his eyes.

"I have none at the moment. Perhaps I will have more in the morning." Morning. Right, Spock was staying the night and he had no place to sleep.

"I should probably set up a bed for you, this cabin only has one." Spock looked over at him, not speaking, and Jim realized that he was probably tired, too.

"I will assist you," Spock said, and Jim shook his head.

"No, that's not necessary." Jim glanced at the windows, and found that the snow level was climbing rapidly. At least eight inches of snow sat on top of the small table on the patio out back. "Did you happen to bring anything in with you besides your snow stuff? I don't think we're going to be able to get to your hovercar through all that snow now."

"I did not, as I did not know whether or not you would be willing to let me stay with you."

"Alright, well maybe some of my clothes will fit you, and I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere." The thought of Spock in his clothes was a little bit arousing, and Jim quickly tamped it down before it could grow into anything more.

"I will sleep on the couch, since there is only a single bed." Jim shook his head, standing up and taking their mugs. Spock was once again careful not to let their fingers brush.

"No, you're my guest, you can take the bed."

"I insist. I am, as you said, merely a guest. It would be improper for me to take your bed."

"It would be improper of me as a host to let you sleep on the couch." Jim headed into the kitchen, Spock trailing behind him as they continued to talk.

"I do not need as much rest as humans, it would be illogical for me to take the better sleeping surface."

"If we can't agree, we might as well share the bed," Jim said. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them or even realize what they were suggesting, and as soon as he realized what he'd said, he pinched his mouth shut, a blush burning his cheeks.

"A logical suggestion," Spock said, and Jim nearly dropped the mugs. He hadn't expected Spock to agree.

"Alright then," he found himself saying as he set the empty mugs on the counter. "Let's go see if any of my clothes fit you."

* * *

Spock stared at his reflection in the simple body-length mirror. The red, plaid, flannel pajama pants were a bit short, but they would perform adequately. The plain gray shirt was a bit loose, but it would work as well. The room was dimly lit, as was the rest of the house, but the bed looked like it would fit both of them, albeit a bit snugly.

"You decent?" Jim asked from the other side of the door.

"I am clothed, yes," Spock said, and the door creaked open.

"You, uh, you look nice." Jim said, blushing slightly. The rosy flush made his eyes stand out even more, as if they didn't demand enough attention already.

"Thank you," Spock responded. "As do you." The blush deepened, and Jim averted his eyes. "Have you found a spare toothbrush?"

"I have, yeah, it's in the bathroom. I'm all ready for bed, so you can just go brush your teeth and then.. yeah." Jim's stammering and blushing was quite enamoring, and had Spock been human, he would've smiled fondly at him.

"Thank you, Jim," he said as he left the room.

Behind him, Jim mumbled, "No problem."

When Spock returned, the room was unlit. Jim was under the covers and propped up against the headboard, reading something on his PADD. The light from the PADD cast angular shadows across his face, like a piece of art on contrasting colors. Bright and dark, stark lines beside ones that faded into each other.

"What are you reading?" Jim looked up, surprised. He must not have heard Spock enter, then.

 _"A Christmas Carol_ , by Charles Dickens." At Spock's look of unfamiliarity, Jim went on to summarize it. "It's about this wealthy but stingy old man called Ebenezer Scrooge. On Christmas Eve, he's visited by the ghost of his old business partner and friend, Marley, who tells him that he needs to change his ways and be kinder. That night, he's visited by three ghosts: the ghost of Christmas past, the ghost of Christmas present, and the ghost of Christmas future. They help him see that he needs to become a better person."

"Another message about Christmas spirit," Spock said. "Humans seem to preach the Christmas spirit rather overwhelmingly."

"I'm not gonna deny that, because it's pretty true," Jim said, shutting off the PADD and setting it aside. "We tend to go a bit overboard when it comes to certain things, Christmas spirit included."

"Clearly." Spock began to walk towards the bed, and Jim slid under the covers so that he was laying down instead of sitting. A sense of awkwardness and a strange tension hung heavy in the air as Spock climbed under the covers, but he ignored it.

"Uh, well, goodnight." Jim said, rolling to face away from Spock.

"Goodnight," Spock said, but didn't immediately try to sleep. He had been putting off the matter of Jim being his t'hy'la all night, and it needed to be addressed before Spock left, or they would most likely never meet again, an entirely unacceptable scenario. How to do that was the only problem. Perhaps he could tell Jim before he left, so if Jim was unwilling to take any action on it, they would never need to meet again. Yes, that would work. All that was left to do was to hope that Jim would return his affections.

* * *

Jim woke at some point during the night to find himself draped over Spock, arm draped over his chest and legs tangled. He was very warm, and that tingling, electric feeling was still there, making him drowsy. Jim drifted back to sleep, hoping that this wouldn't be too awkward in the morning. He would've moved, but Spock was too comfortable.

* * *

When Spock woke in the morning, Jim was draped over him, a human blanket to substitute the one that was mostly on the floor at this point. The contact between them was pleasant, and Jim's emotions were serene and content. Spock found himself not wanting to move, for fear of waking Jim up.

Gently, he pushed Jim off of him, but he continued to sleep. He must be a heavy sleeper, then. All Vulcans were naturally light sleepers, so this was rather unusual to Spock. He pulled up the blanket an draped it back over Jim before leaving the room as quietly as he could. Even if Jim did happen to be a heavy sleeper, old habits die hard.

Once in the kitchen, it occurred to him that he had no idea about breakfast traditions on Christmas. We're there breakfast traditions? Oh well, he wasn't too hungry anyways. He could wait for Jim. But what to do until then?

Outside, snow was still falling, white dancing across the window. Spock had never really seen snow, having grown up on a desert planet, and was interested in having more experience with it than a hurried jog seventy two feet from his hovercar to the door of the nearest cabin.

Spock walked to the front door and put on his socks and shoes, pulled his heavy coat on, opened the door, and stepped out into the winter morning. The cold air hit him like a wall, and he gasped shallowly, breath exploding like a white cloud in front of his face. Wind, still manipulating the snowflakes in the air, cut through his pants as if he weren't wearing them, and he could feel his cheeks begin to flush green with cold.

"Fascinating," Spock said quietly, and more fog billowed from his mouth into the air. Almost two feet of snow had collected, and the trees were bold black skeletons against a steely gray sky. Such colors in nature were totally foreign to Spock, who was used to everything being shades of red and orange.

"It really is, isn't it?" Spock whipped round to find Jim standing behind him, leaning against the door in his own boots and jacket. Spock must've been so entranced by the snow that he missed Jim come outside. He was smirking slightly, arms crossed over his chest and hair tousled from sleep.

"It is..." Spock glanced back at the landscape in front of him. "Beautiful, in a foreign sense."

"That's right, Vulcan is a desert planet. This is pretty out of the ordinary for you, isn't it?"

"Can I correctly assume it is not unusual for you?" Jim laughed, shaking his head. There was rustling as birds took off from their perches, disturbed by the sudden sound.

"This definitely isn't my first rodeo, no. I grew up in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, so I'm pretty familiar with snow." Spock gave a full body shudder, and Jim's electric blue eyes, which had previously been fixed on some middle distance, snapped to Spock with a fierce intensity. "Come back in, you must be frozen out here. How long have you been out here anyways?"

"I have not been outside for very long," Spock said as he followed Jim inside.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"I have not," Spock said as his cheeks began to tingle from the warmth of the cabin. "I was unsure if there were any customs about Christmas breakfasts." Jim gave him a smile as he entered the kitchen that could've been considered fond, but that was probably just Spock's imagination.

"There aren't any," Jim said. "So don't worry. Are pancakes good?"

"Vulcans do not worry," Spock said. "And pancakes are acceptable."

"Have you ever had pancakes before?" Jim sounded surprised. "I didn't think Vulcans ate pancakes."

"They do not, but my mother would occasionally prepare them on days such as my birthday and other days that she deemed important."

"Your mother seems like a great woman." Jim was fiddling with bowls and ingredients now, making idle chatter as he did so.

"She is. She also seemed rather fond of you." From where he stood by one end of the island, Spock could see Jim smile into the batter.

"Is she, now? I'm rather fond of her myself, and whoever those kids were in the background."

"They are my cousins," Spock said, and shifted so his hip wasn't digging into the counter. "They are extremely rambunctious and hard to control."

"Most human children are," Jim said. "I know I was a bit high-energy, but my old man managed to keep me in check most of the time before he bit the dust." Bit the dust, Spock was familiar with, but not with 'old man.' He decided not to poke at the death aspect, but instead at who this old man was.

"Old man? I am unfamiliar with that statement."

"My father, sorry." The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, disturbed only be the hiss of batter as Jim prepared the pancakes.

"Have you ever been to Earth before?" Jim asked.

"I visited several times in my youth, but I have not been in many years, and certainly not during winter." Jim turned, scooping the pancakes onto two plates.

"That makes sense, you never having been here during the winter." Jim handed Spock his plate, and they sat side by side at the island. A tub of butter and some maple syrup sat in front of them, and Jim heavily doused his pancakes in syrup before beginning to eat.

"You seem awfully fond of syrup," Spock said as he cut his own buttered pancakes into pieces. Jim nodded.

"Yeah, I love syrup. I've got a huge sweet tooth."

"I am not particularly fond of sweets." Spock replied, and Jim looked over at him with that almost-fond look in his eyes again.

"Is that a Vulcan thing, or just you?"

"Vulcans as a whole do not regularly consume sweets, for we find their sugar content too overwhelming. On the contrary, most traditional Vulcan dishes are too spicy for human palettes."

"Really?" Jim sounded genuinely interested in the topic of Vulcan food.

"Indeed." They continued to eat in companionable silence, until Jim pushed his stool back from the island and gave a satisfied sigh.

"Those were some good pancakes." Jim said. "I'm proud of those pancakes."

"I found them rather appetizing myself." Spock said, and Jim beamed.

"Hey, what do you say we watch some more Christmas movies? There's not much else to do up here while we're snowed in." A quick glance assured Spock that yes, it was still snowing outside.

"I am not opposed to the idea." He supposed, with the obsession humans had about Christmas, that there were many, many more movies than what he had been shown last night.

They cleaned their dishes quickly and efficiently before moving to the living room, where the light of morning gave the room a whole new feel. Instead of dark and almost intense, the room was light and open, emitting peace and calm.

 _"The Polar Express_ is also one of my favorite movies," Jim said. "I have a lot of favorite Christmas movies, come to think of it."

"I have not been opposed to any of the films you have shown me thus far, so I doubt I will be opposed to this one." Jim smiled at him again- the man was like sunshine, Spock's brain suggested, bright and happy and warm and kind. He wanted to stay, to bask in the warm sun that was Jim, a welcome reprieve from the constant icy chill of a Terran winter.

"Keep stroking my ego and it'll kick us both out into the cold," he said, amused. They settled back onto the couch, in the same positions as the previous night, and Spock looked over at Jim as he began the movie. His face was surprisingly unguarded, fond and excited, the lines that had been either so stark or so blurry the night before soft and smooth. He turned back to the movie, and repressed the affection rising in him.

* * *

Spock seemed distracted, but even a distracted Vulcan could pay attention to a movie about Christmas. Jim wondered what was bothering him, but the issue seemed to be gone by the time the movie was over.

"How was it?" Jim asked, and Spock nodded his appreciation.

"If I may, I have more questions about Christmas." Jim's gaze slid from the television, where he had been picking the next move, over to Spock.

"Sure thing," he said. "What do you want to know?"

"Snowmen," Spock said. "What holiday value do they possess?" Jim frowned, thinking.

"I'm not sure," he said. "I mean, they're fun to make, and they can certainly create good memories, but as for holiday value I think they're just for commercialization."

"And... elves?" Jim grinned, his eyes flicked to Spock's ears before he responded.

"They're supposed to make Santa's story more realistic. He can't possibly make toys for every child on Earth without helpers."

"And yet him being able to fit down a chimney, fit all those presents into a single sack, and riding around on a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer are all logical." Spock's tone was dry, and Jim laughed. He was almost adorable.

"Ask the children, man. I don't know." Spock glanced at the television, where _Frosty the Snowman_ was set up.

"It seems my question about snowmen was well timed."

After _Frosty_ , Jim was becoming restless from simply sitting and watching television movies about Christmas. He glanced over at Spock, and it seemed Spock might be restless, too.

"Would you mind taking a break from Christmas movies?" Spock asked, and Jim shook his head.

"No, I was just going to suggest one myself." Jim said. "What would you like to do?"

"Do you have a chess board?"

"I do, actually." Jim was pleasantly surprised, eager to exercise his mind. "Do you play?"

"I do. I have in fact been the champion of the Galactic Chess Tournament for the past three years."

"Have you? I've never played in a tournament, but I've beat everyone I've ever played, except for that one time when I was drunk and challenged someone to chess." Spock eye-smiled at him, and Jim felt immensely proud of managing to get Spock to do that.

"Well then, let us see how well you truly play." Jim grinned, getting up off of the couch and pulling the old fashioned, one tiered chess set out from inside of the side table.

"Where would you like to play? The island in the kitchen or here?"

"The kitchen," Spock said, and so Jim picked up the chess set and carried it to the kitchen.

"Black or white?" Jim asked, setting up each side.

"Black will suffice," Spock said, and Jim's gaze settled on his hair, the same obsidian as the game pieces. It looked soft, and Jim's fingers twitched with the urge to run his hand through it.

He had to remind himself that he had only met Spock last night, and Vulcans were intensely private people, but it felt as if they'd known each other forever and were just reconnecting. Like a part of Jim, deep down inside of him, knew Spock.

But that was ridiculous, and he snapped back to reality when Spock made his first move.

The kitchen was warmer than the living room when the fire wasn't going, and the large window gave a nice view of the outdoors, where snow still fell. It felt nice, sitting on a barstool playing chess with Spock, and it felt even better when he made an illogical but genius move and Spock raised his eyebrow at Jim as if to say _'How the hell is your illogical method doing so well.'_

Spock won the first round, but Jim wasn't going to be sour about it, because it had been the best game he'd had in a long while.

"Your tactics are certainly interesting in their efficiency," Spock said, surveying the board and he few pieces left on it. Jim grinned.

"I have my ways," was all he said.

"Would you be adverse to another round?"

"Certainly not."

And they played.

* * *

Jim won three of the seven games that they played, which lasted until around six o' clock at night, after the sun had set and darkened the horizon until the sky was a deep blue, everything else black against it. Spock had been extremely impressed the first time he'd won, even though he didn't admit it to Jim.

Amanda called soon after their final game, wearing a red and white sweater with a pattern of snowflakes on it. Her face was bright, and it only got brighter when she saw Spock.

"Hey, honey," she said, and he could feel his ears begin to grow green with embarrassment.

"Hello mother."

"So, how has your Christmas education been going? Has Jim been doing a good job?" Spock's eyes flicked up to Jim, who was putting away the chess board and doing a very poor job at pretending that he wasn't listening to their conversation.

"He has been doing a perfectly adequate job." Amanda smiled.

"And you haven't put up too much of a fuss, I hope?"

"I have asked questions, but I have not been stubborn." Jim padded back into the kitchen, passing behind Spock.

"Oh, there he is! Hello, Jim." Amanda called, and Jim backtracked so that he was in frame again.

"Hi, Amanda. How are you?" Amanda tipped her head a bit to one side, visibly amused.

"I'm fine. You're very polite, Jim." Jim blushed behind Spock.

"It's just the way I was raised."

"Still, many people could do with learning from you. How has my son been?"

"Mother-" Spock began to say, but Jim interrupted with a dazzling smile.

"He's been fine. We just finished up some chess, actually." Amanda's face lit up.

"Oh, Spock loves chess! He's very good, were you any competition for him?" Spock could feel his cheeks and ears burning green, but the two humans both ignored it, thankfully.

"I was actually. I won three of the seven rounds."

"Really? That's extremely impressive." Amanda looked to Spock for confirmation, as such a feat was near unheard of, and he nodded. "What were you two doing before I interrupted?"

"Oh, it wasn't an interruption. We were just picking up the chess set, and then I was thinking about making dinner."

"Oh, that's-" A crash sounded in the background, followed by squeals of delight, and Amanda sighed good-naturedly. "That's my cue, I guess. I'll talk with you again sometime tomorrow. Goodbye Spock, Jim. And Merry Christmas to both of you."

"Goodbye, mother, and Merry Christmas." Jim grinned and waved over his shoulder, and Amanda reached forward to sever the connection.

"Your mom is pretty great," Jim commented as he continued on his original path towards the fridge.

"She is indeed a remarkable woman," Spock said, shutting off the PADD and turning to face Jim.

"What do you want for dinner?" Jim asked. "I don't have that much food here, but there's some turkey, if that's good."

"I am a vegetarian." Spock said, and Jim frowned.

"Okay, lets see..." He was silent for a moment, surveying the fridge. "There's supplies for a salad here, if that's cool with you."

"Salad will suffice." Jim bent over to rummage through the fridge in search of all of the ingredients, and emerged with some spinach, orange bell peppers, tomatoes, cheese, and salad dressing, all balanced precariously in his hands.

He dumped them on the counter, then pulled out a cutting board and a knife to begin preparing the dish.

"I am able to prepare salad myself," Spock said, and Jim looked up from cutting the pepper.

"I didn't mean to imply that you can't," Jim said. "Sorry. I'm just sort of used to making all the food. I did it as a teen, and Bones would rather starve before he made food himself- the man would live on takeout if I wasn't there."

"Your roommate cannot cook?" Jim shrugged, smiling.

"He can make the very simple basics- grilled cheese, sandwiches, mac and cheese, enough to not die. He tried to make cookies once and never again. He almost burnt the apartment complex down."

Spock merely blinked in surprise. How was it possible that a grown human male could not provide food for himself beyond the most basic dishes? He added it to his mental list of questions about humans.

"Here, take this, and I'll get started on my dinner." Jim handed the knife to Spock, and the material of the grip was such that it left a faint empathetic impression of Jim behind.

Fondness, peace, happiness.

Jim emerged from the fridge once more with some turkey. He smiled at Spock as he set the turkey down, and although the darkness outside made the lights inside seem all the brighter, Jim's smile was still brighter than everything else.

* * *

After dinner, the two of them returned to the living room to watch another movie. Jim had made more eggnog for Spock and hot cocoa for himself, and gave Spock the blanket again.

"Do you want the blanket? I do not need it if you would like it," Spock and asked, and Jim had simply wiggled his feet and smiled, once more clad in fluffy socks.

The fire crackled, casting intense light over everything it touched. Some of the ornaments on the Christmas tree in the corner winked at them in the ever-shifting light. The movie had yet to start.

"This well known," Jim said. "So I doubt you'd be ignorant of this, but humans normally exchange gifts on Christmas. I'd give one to you if I had one, but my company will have to be an impromptu gift."

"As will mine." Jim smiled softly at him before turning to the television and switching on the movie. Spock wondered whether his advances would be spurned if he leaned so that his arm was pressed up against Jim's, but ultimately decided against it. He sipped at his eggnog.

"I have two more questions about the Christmas holiday," Spock asked once the movie was over.

"Then shoot," Jim said, shifting so that he was sitting Indian-style facing Spock.

"Gingerbread men and houses. What purpose do they serve?"

"Well, they're delicious, and they're pretty, and I guess making them could be a bonding exercise? I think that stuff is another commercialized item." Spock was curious about the second item, but it was also a way to test the waters.

"I am also uncertain about the meaning of mistletoe." Jim flushed bright pink, and his eyes flickered to Spock's lips.

"Well," Jim began. "I, uh, I think it's, um, supposed to... to, uh, encourage us to show our affection for people that we love." Jim was clearly flustered, and his eyes kept flicking back to Spock's lips.

"Fascinating," Spock said quietly.

"Yeah, I guess mistletoe is pretty fascinating," Jim stammered. "It's poisonous, but it's also a symbol of-"

"I meant that _you_ are fascinating, Jim," Spock said, and Jim stilled, his eyes finally meeting and locking with Spock's.

"Is that so?" He was still blushing, the pink spreading down his neck.

"It is."

And Spock leaned in and kissed him.

* * *

Spock was kissing him.

Spock was _kissing_ him.

It was actually very pleasant. The kiss was light, brief, a simple pressing of mouths, but it sent Jim's head reeling. Spock's lips were smooth and soft and dry, and they were pressed against Jim's own, and Jim didn't even know what to do.

When Spock pulled back at long last, Jim opened his eyes to find Spock staring directly into his eyes as if maybe, if he stared long and hard enough, he could find the answer to life itself.

 _"Spock,"_ Jim breathed.

"Jim." Spock's response was cool and even, as if the kiss had been no big deal. Jim just stared. "You are rather beautiful when flustered." Jim felt himself flush even further, and he could've sworn Spock's lips twitched towards a smile.

"What was that?" Jim said, eyes still wide and voice unsteady.

"I believe it is what humans refer to as a kiss." Jim shook his head.

"No, I mean why did you kiss me?" Spock shifted slightly.

"In Vulcan custom, there is what is referred to as a t'hy'la bond. It is a revered, sacred thing, something to be protected and nurtured. T'hy'la can mean friend, brother, or lover, and is most commonly all three." He had looked down as he spoke, but looked back up at Jim here. "My mind has identified you as t'hy'la- the other half of myself."

"Like the human soulmate myth?" Jim said. "I'm basically your soulmate?"

"Essentially, yes." Spock said. "I did not plan on mentioning this until soon before I left, but your reaction to the question about mistletoe urged me to reconsider my course of action."

Jim smiled and leaned forward to kiss Spock, hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck. His hair was soft and fine, just how Jim had imagined it might feel, and Jim caught the taste of eggnog on his lips as they kissed. When they drew back, Jim rested his forehead against Spock's own.

"Well," he said. "I'm glad you reconsidered."

"As am I." Spock leaned in to kiss him again, and again, and a warm feeling bubbled up in Jim's chest as they did so. He was soon doing nothing more than pressing his smiling mouth against Spock's own, but Spock didn't seem to mind.

"Merry Christmas, Spock." Jim murmured.

"Merry Christmas, Jim."

The snow continued to fall, but neither of them minded at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! This took me quite a while to write, but I'm really proud of how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it.


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